Figuring It Out
by Iris9694
Summary: After being betrayed by those she cared about Iris Williams moves from a small town in Louisiana to London. She is caught up in the eccentric activities of Sherlock and John's life while trying to figure out who she is and what she stands for. Pairing: Sherlock/OC or John/OC
1. Chapter 1

I stretched as I woke up from my cat nap. It seemed that was the only way that I was able to get any sleep as of late. I looked at the clock and sighed when I saw that it was only 4 in the morning. I went and made myself a cup of coffee and got onto my laptop. I was scouring the web for a place to stay because I had just moved. I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Iris Williams. I have just moved from the United States to London in order to make a fresh start and to get away from my past. Some things happened that I would rather not disclose. I was planning on going to see a friend of mine later who was currently living in London. I had the money to move into where ever I wanted to but I would rather not take more than what I needed. I saw what money had done to the rest of my family and I didn't want that to happen to me. I glanced at the clock and decided that I wanted to go out for breakfast. I went and got dressed in my slacks, black button up shirt, and my boots with a short heel. As I walked out the door I grabbed my trench coat and red infinity scarf and hailed a cab.

I walked into the little café and ordered a coffee while I waited for Molly; she was a pathologist at a nearby hospital and she said she knew someone who might be interested in sharing a flat with me. I was taking a sip of my coffee as she walked in the door. She animatedly waved at me as she walked over. I smiled softly and said, "Good morning dearie. It's been a while since we last saw each other." My eyes scanned over her taking in every detail as they did. She had put on a bright red lipstick in order to impress whoever it was we are going to see as well as pulling her hair up. There was a bandage around her hand where she had burned it earlier that morning most likely on her kettle based on the tea stain on her shirt. She appeared to be in good health and had rosy check not just from the blush that she put on. She gave me a hug and then sat down across from me. She said, "Indeed it has. It's been what now three or four years?" "Four. And how has life been treating you since then?" I asked. "Good, everything is pretty much the same. And how about you?" She replied. "I'm fine," I said despite the fact that both of us knew that it was a lie. "Let's go meet your new flat mate," She said as she grabbed my hand and we walked out of the café. I stopped and held the door open for a sandy haired man with a cane despite the fact that he held an air of he could do things on his own. He smiled and nodded and I walked to catch up with Molly.

Thank you for checking out my story. This is the first story that I am posting and I hope to post once a week. I'm going to be working on writing longer chapters as well. I hope you liked it and please send in a review about what you think. Love much, Iris.


	2. Chapter 2

We walked into a little lab that had only a man with dark curly hair and Molly introduced us. Sherlock, as Molly said his name was, glanced up briefly from his microscope and it felt like he was peering into my being. I smirked as I finally figured out why Molly was so insistent that I go and at least meet him. He was like me and could see things that others couldn't. He flinched slightly as I did the same to him and deduced several things about him that he probably didn't want people to know about.

Just then the sandy haired man from earlier walked into the lab with a chubby dark haired man with glasses. With a quick glance I was able to tell that he was a returning veteran from either Afghanistan or Iraq. "Mike, can I borrow your phone?" Sherlock asks without even looking up from the microscope. "What's wrong with the landline?" Mike asked back suspiciously. It seemed that he was wary of whatever Sherlock had planned for the phone. "I prefer to text," He replied. "Umm… You can use mine," the sandy haired man said. Sherlock walked over to the man and grabbed the phone.

"So, Afghanistan or Iraq?" I asked. Everyone in the room had a shocked look on their face except for Molly and Sherlock who must have finally put the pieces together that I was like him. John said, "Afghanistan. How did you…" Sherlock cut him off and said, "How do you feel about the violin?" John still confused and shocked said, "I'm sorry what?" "I think it is a lovely instrument. I prefer the piano myself though," I said while grinning. "I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other," he said. "You told him about me," John said. Mike smiled and simply said, "Nope." "Then who said anything about being flatmates?" John asked. Sherlock said, "I did. Told Mike this morning I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just after lunch with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap. And as for you," he looked my way, "Molly has known for a while that I have been looking for a flatmate and here she is with a good friend who has just moved to London in order to escape from her past. Again not a difficult leap." I smile one of my fake smiles at being reminded of what I ran away from.

John asked me, "How did you know about Afghanistan?" I was about to go into an explanation when Sherlock said, "Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. We ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry, got to dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." I frowned at having my deductions interrupted. "Well, is that it?" John asks. "Is that what?" Sherlock asked genuinely confused. I rolled my eyes and said, "We've only just met and we're all going to go looking at a flat together is what he means." Sherlock tilts his head and says," Yes, is that a problem?" "We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting. I don't even know your name," John exclaimed. Sherlock while walking to the door said, "I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. You've got a brother worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic quite correctly, I'm afraid. That's enough to go on, don't you think? The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon." He walked out and I rolled my eyes at the theatrics he uses in order to get his point across.

I walked over to John; I held out my hand and said, "I'm Iris by the way. Pleasure to meet you." He shook my hand and said, "John Watson. Umm… So were you able to tell everything about me too from just looking at me?" "Yes, but I don't like to show off as much as Sherlock seems too," I said while smiling. "Well I guess I will see you tomorrow then," John said as we left the room. I said, "See you then," and walked over to Molly's office.

_Thank again for reading my story. So I was silly enough to go and type up the whole chapter and forget to save it. So I managed to retype it today before and during work. Anyway I would love for you all to let me know what you think of the story so far. Love much, Iris_


	3. Chapter 3

I curled up in my bed that night and thought about what an interesting life this was going to be. Thinking about it I could already tell that Sherlock was going to a bit annoying but respectable in his own way and I could also tell that John would be quite nice until he was angered or ticked off at something Sherlock will inevitably do. It was like they were mirror images of one another. John was a soft, happy man and Sherlock was a sharp, stern man. So where did that put me? I was the woman caught in the middle. I had the intelligence that made me sharp and hard to relate too but also I had a warm feeling of a protector that made me kind of soft. Sighing I curled up under an old throw that I had brought with me. It was something that my grandmother had made for me. She seemed to be the only one who really cared about me and acted like my intelligence wasn't a bad thing. So much could be ruined by the greed of people and by one family who started it all by dragging my family into their affairs.

I got out of the cab and wrapped my coat further around my body while looking up at the flat. It was a nice place in the center of the city with everything speeding by. It was also close to the library which was a good thing for me since most of my books were still in the States. Sherlock got out of a cab and nodded to acknowledge me. I nodded back with a smile and then John arrived a few minutes later as well. "Ah, Hello, Mr. Holmes, Miss Williams," He said. "Just Iris is fine with me," I said and Sherlock said, "Just Sherlock." "Okay," he said. "This is a really nice place. Must be kind of expensive," I said to Sherlock even though I could read from his expression that it wasn't going to be. He smirked as if he knew something I didn't and said, "Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, she's given me a special deal. Owes me a favor. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out." John said, "You helped to prevent it?" "Oh I ensured it," He replied. "Sherlock," an older woman said as she stepped out of the apartment and gave Sherlock a hug. John just stood dumb founded at what he heard. "Mrs. Hudson, Dr. John Watson and Miss Iris Williams," Sherlock introduced us. "Come in dears," She said and opened the door. We thanked her and walked up the stairs.

I noted how the place was a bit older but obviously well cared for. "Well this could be very nice," John said. Sherlock replied, "My thoughts exactly." And then John said, "As soon as we clean up all this rubbish," and Sherlock said at the exact same time, "So I went straight ahead and moved in." I giggled and said to ease the awkwardness, "It is a nice place it could just do with a little bit of straightening." They both nodded and Mrs. Hudson said, "What do you think, then, Dr. Watson, Miss Williams? There are another two bedroom upstairs, if you'll need them." I cleared my throat and said, "Just Iris is fine and yes we will need separate bedrooms." "Why would we not need separate bedrooms?" John asked a bit miffed. I face palmed because that was the thing I was trying to avoid. Mrs. Hudson didn't seemed to be offended though as she replied, "Oh, don't worry; there are all sorts around here. Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones. Sherlock! The mess you've made." I smiled at that while thinking about how unaccepting everyone back home was. I walked up to the skull and looked at it for a minute and determined that it was an actual skull. 'Must have got it on the job or from an experiment,' I thought. John just kind of stared at it and I shook my head hoping he wouldn't ask any more questions. I already knew that would just make him more confused than he already was. At home I learned the less you ask question the better off you were. It certainly helped in developing my deduction skills. "I looked you both up on the internet last night," John casually mentioned. I smiled knowing some of the things he would find on me. "Anything interesting?" Sherlock asked. John looked at me and said, "Well there was quite a bit about you. Rich family, Old money. You have your own blog about the books you've read and would recommend. It was quite interesting." "Thank you," I said for more than one reason. I knew there were other articles out there about my family and about me that weren't so flattering and for him not asking why I wanted to share a flat with someone despite having the money to live on my own. He turned to Sherlock and said, "Found your website. The Science Of Deduction. You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb?" "Yes. And I can read your military career in your face and your leg and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone," Sherlock said with some annoyance in his tone of voice as he walked over to the widow and looked out. In order to move the topic on Mrs. Hudson said, "What about these suicides, then, Sherlock? I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same." "Four. There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time," he said as a man with grey hair walked in. "Where?" Sherlock asked him. "Brixton, Laurelton Gardens," the man said. I spied that Sherlock picked the badge off of the man and saw that the name said Lestrade. Lestrade asked, "You know how they never leave notes? This one did. Will you come?" "Who's on forensics?" Sherlock asked. "Anderson," The DI said. Sherlock scowled and said, "Anderson doesn't work well with me." "Well he's not your assistant," he replied. "I need an assistant though," Sherlock said with a frown on his face. He seemed almost like a child not able to get what they want. "Will you come?" he asked with a little more force this time. Sherlock considered for a moment and then said, "Not in a police car, I'll be right behind." "Thank you." he said and headed out.

Sherlock contained himself until the DI was gone and then he exclaimed and jumped up, "Brilliant! Yes! Four serial suicides and now a note. Oh, it's Christmas. Mrs. Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food." I smiled and sat down in a chair that was across from another chair that John had sat down in some time ago. He was still a bit confused but he seemed to understand more than I thought he would. It seemed that he was able to come to some deductions on his own. Mrs. Hudson said, "I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper." "Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!" Sherlock said while ignoring her and dashing out of the flat. "Landlady not housekeeper," She said again. I could already tell that she was going to be taking good care of us even though she kept claiming to be only a landlady. "Look at him, dashing about... My husband was just the same. But you're more the sitting-down type, I can tell. I'll make you that cuppa, you rest your leg," She said while walking into the kitchen area. "Damn my leg!" John exclaimed and both Mrs. Hudson and I jumped, "Sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this bloody thing...," he trailed off. I gave him a sad smile knowing what it was like as I rubbed my side. Mrs. Hudson said, "I understand, dear, I've got a hip." I tried not to giggle because in a way I guess she could relate but in a way it is different. John said, "Cup of tea would be lovely." "Same here if you don't mind," I said with a gentle smile. "Just this once, dear. I'm not your housekeeper," She said. "Couple of biscuits too, if you've got them," he said with a knowing smile. "Not your housekeeper," She replied. Sherlock suddenly walked back in and said to John, "You're a doctor. Actually, you're an Army doctor." John replied, "Yes." He looked over at me and said, "And you, you have a violent past. You know your way around quite a few different injuries." John gave me a questioning look but I ignored it and replied, "Yes. Yes I do." Address both of us he said, "Seen a lot of injuries, then. Violent deaths." We both replied, "Yes." He asked, "Bit of trouble too, I bet?" John replied, "Of course. Yes. Enough for a lifetime, far too much." "I smiled and said, "You don't even need to ask. I'm sure you can see." He smiled and said, "Want to see some more?" "Oh god yes," John said and then I said, "Of course." I knew it was dangerous to get involved in the justice side of crime but I couldn't resist. John yelled, "The tea will have to wait Mrs. Hudson. We're heading out." "I'd love to have tea with you when we get back," I told her. She nodded my way and asked, "All of you are going?" "Impossible suicides? Four of them? Not point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" Sherlock said happily. She smiled and said, "Look at you, all happy. It's not decent Sherlock." "Who cares about decent? The game is on!" he said and gave her a kiss on the cheek. The three of us ran outside as Sherlock called out for a taxi.

In the cab ride over to the crime scene both John and Sherlock talked about how he was a consultant detective for the police. After tell John the deductions that both of us made surprisingly John said, "That was amazing." I twitched and looked over at him. That was definitely not what people usually say when people like us tell them what we see. Obviously Sherlock felt the same way because he was a little shocked and asked, "You think so?" John said, "Of course it was. It was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary." Sherlock said, "That's not what people normally say." "What do they normally say?" John asked genuinely confused. "Piss off," Sherlock said and we all laughed. "Oh believe me I've heard much worse also," I said, "Oh the woe of true genius." That threw us into another round of laughter.

We arrived at the crime scene and Sherlock asked, "So did I get anything wrong?" I chimed in and said, "Let me guess Harry is short for Harriet." "Umm, yeah it is. How did you know?" John stated. "The state of the phone is also that of a drunk but if it belonged to a man it would have more linear scratches on it from being put in and taken out of a pocket. A women's phone has scratches going any which way because things bump it in a purse. Of course this isn't always true," I said and to prove my point I pulled my phone out of my pocket to show him. "My phone has several linear scratches like that of a man's but also there are the random scratches because every now and then I do use a purse," I said. "That is brilliant," John said and Sherlock said, "It's always something."

"So what are we doing here, Sherlock?" John asked. "Isn't it obvious? We are going to be helping with the case," I said while skipping to catch up to Sherlock. Why did he have to have such long legs? John walked with his cane to try and keep up as well. "Hello, freak," I heard the woman by the police tape say. I frowned not liking one bit that this woman thought that she could criticize Sherlock when she was so obviously participating in an affair with the forensics guy that just walked out of the building. Oh that must be Anderson my mind connected to the comment earlier. "I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade," Sherlock said while ignoring the earlier comment. "Why?" She asked. I was so frustrated I said, "Why do you think dearie. We were invited." She was slightly startled by my anger and said, "And who are you two?" "Colleagues of mine, Dr. Watson and Iris Williams. Dr. Watson, Iris, Sergeant Sally Donovan. Old friend," Sherlock said and I scoffed at the friends part.

_So I know I'm really late and I'm so sorry. I tried to make this a really long chapter to make up for it. I hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas or whatever holiday you celebrate. Anyway work just got the better of me so I'll try to be better about updating. Anyway hopefully another chapter will be up next week. Love much, Iris_


End file.
